


The Curse of the Pink Panties

by pseudosmodingium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bickering, Case Fic, Curses, Dean in Panties, Future Fic, Human Castiel, M/M, Marital Problems Resolved, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Panty Kink, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, brief angst, hunter husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 18:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11903604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudosmodingium/pseuds/pseudosmodingium
Summary: Dean and Cas are on their way to investigate the death of an underwear model in Colorado. When they arrive, a second woman has been found dead, though nothing even points to supernatural circumstances as both appear to have died of natural causes. Dean insists they’ve got a case which doesn’t really help to restore the peace between him and his husband who is already mad at Dean for dragging him to hunt after hunt.Dean’s mood improves slightly when their investigations lead them to a lingerie store where he’d rather do some shopping than interrogate the owner who had business connections with the victims.





	The Curse of the Pink Panties

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the film title _Curse of the Pink Panties_. I have never seen the film or its sequel (yes, there’s a sequel). This fic has nothing to do with the original plot—no gangster ghosts haunting a girl’s panties, sorry. I also just realized there’s a character named Ashley in the film, too. This was completely unintentional.

“Seriously, that’s it? One woman found dead in her house. Unknown cause of death. Doors and windows locked from the inside, no signs of a break-in. Why do you think this could be our kinda deal?” Cas asked with a hint of passive-aggressiveness and closed the lid of Dean’s computer. “Maybe the coroner just missed something and she simply died of natural causes.”

“Or maybe he didn’t and something not so natural killed her,” Dean argued, his eyes sticking to the road ahead. Huge rain drops hammered loudly onto the Impala’s roof, the windshield wipers contributing a steady tick-tock-tick-tock. “Could be a ghost, or a demon. She possibly sold her soul in order to get her dream job. I mean, what young woman doesn’t wanna be a model?”

“No signs of claw wounds, so we can rule out death by hellhound,” Cas replied. “Wait, did you say she was a model?”

“Yeah. For underwear, to be exact,” Dean stated proudly.

“So you’re dragging me through heavy rainstorms to Colorado because you want to investigate the death of an underwear model, are you kidding me?”

“What?” Dean said, feeling his husband’s intense stare on him. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun. Maybe we’ll meet some colleagues of hers.”

“I don’t care about lingerie mannequins, whether they are dead or alive,” Cas told him and huffed in annoyance.

“Whatever… A person is dead and we have to find what killed her,” Dean insisted.

“We don’t even know for certain that she was killed by anything, or someone. We agreed we’d only take cases that for sure are our kinda thing and only every once in a while. We agreed to lay low.”

“And we have. We haven’t been on a hunt in weeks,” Dean replied.

“Two weeks, Dean. It only took your cabin fever two weeks to lure me back on the road with what’s very likely not even a real case.”

“Cas, listen, I’m sorry I—”

“I’ll take a nap,” Cas interrupted him. “Wake me when we’re there.” He balled up his jacket and nudged the makeshift pillow between his head and the cold window.

Dean didn’t understand what his problem was. It was true, yes, they had decided on slowing down on the interval of their jobs, but Dean was itching to go out and kill something. Live as a civilian didn’t suit him. He had spent his entire life as a hunter and he couldn’t just step out of it overnight. He needed time to adjust. Cas nagged him with his worries that one or both of them might die on the job. Well, newsflash, that’s what happens in this line of work. They’d been to Heaven and Hell and back again—literally.

But even if they did take a break for a while, they could just get hit by a bus while crossing the street and die or slip in the shower and break their necks. Life’s dangerous, no matter what.

He just wished Cas would realize this. Instead he punished Dean with deprivation of sex and nights on the couch. Dean had spent years sleeping on shitty motel bed mattresses but he had gotten used to memory foam and was not amused to be denied access to a comfortable sleeping surface. His neck made a cracking noise as he squirmed in his seat to ease the pain in his back a little. God, they needed to buy a better couch if Cas continued to banish him to the living room for the night.

However, Dean was intent on having a good time in La Junta, Colorado. He had wished for a case like this for so long. And he might even get an opportunity to make his fed up and stubborn husband a little jealous by flirting with sexy underwear models.

 

“FBI, Special Agents Mars and Sheeran,” Cas introduced them at the sheriff’s office. At least he hadn’t named them after teenage girls this time, Dean thought.

“Agents,” the sheriff said, nodding her head at them, “I haven’t expected you to arrive so soon. We’ve only finished our report of the scene of the second death twenty minutes ago. This is about Marina Ruiz and Ashley Miller, right?”

Dean gave Cas a look before saying, “We were already in the area when we received the call from the Bureau. So, Sheriff—”

“Daniels,” she provided.

“Sheriff Daniels, what can you tell us about the second victim?”

“Well, like with Ashley, she was home alone, all doors and windows locked from the inside and at first it seemed like she died from natural causes as well but the coroner said it looks like she choked to death.”

“Choked on what?” Cas asked.

“We don’t know that yet. We didn’t find anything and there were no marks around her neck. You have to wait for the autopsy report. I can show you the pictures of her body in the meantime.”

Marina Ruiz, thirty-five years old, photographer, was found in the middle of her living room, lying face down on the carpet. “The neighbor in the apartment beneath her said he heard some bumping from above during the time she must have died but when it stopped as abruptly as it had started, he didn’t think of it anymore and only recalled the noises when the deputy came to get his statement.”

“And Ashley Miller? How did she die? The report only said ‘natural causes,’” Cas inquired.

“Heart failure,” Sheriff Daniels explained. “The scene of her death looked similar to Ms. Ruiz’.”

“But she was twenty-three years old and presumably healthy…or did she have any heart condition the coroner failed to mention?”

“No, she didn’t. It can happen, you know,” she said, “one day you’re alive and alright, and the next day you’re dead. My grandfather always told me to live my life like today could be my last.”

Dean could, of course, relate to that and judging from Cas’s look, he was just thinking the same.

“Were the two women connected in some way? Did they know each other?” Cas resumed.

“Yes, actually, they did. Ashley modelled for the online catalogue of a local lingerie store and Marina was the photographer. Ashley died after she came home from one of the photo shoots and Marina must be the last person to have seen her alive. They both worked for Linda Graham who owns the store. It’s called _Satin & Lace._ It’s nice, great quality, and Mrs. Graham is an expert in her field.”

“Have you interrogated Mrs. Graham about this?” Dean asked.

“Of course we have. She was obviously very shaken by the women’s deaths. She said the last time she talked to Marina was yesterday when she brought her the photographs she had taken before Ashley’s death. Marina seemed as usual, just as upset about the girl’s passing as Mrs. Graham was.”

“Did you see these photos?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Ashley was a pretty, young woman and Marina a talented photographer. I’m not sure if Mrs. Graham still wants to use them but I don’t think so.”

Dean thanked the sheriff for her time and told her to give them a call as soon as the coroner had finished his autopsy report. In the meantime they would start their investigations by interviewing the people who knew the women, starting with the lingerie store owner.

 

 _Satin & Lace_ had a welcoming exterior and also looked nice and warm inside. The decoration was maybe a bit too much peach and pink for Dean’s liking but the things that lay on display looked really tasteful. The woman who was probably Mrs. Graham was currently busy with a customer, so they waited until she would leave.

“See anything you like?” Dean asked his husband, murmuring the question close to his ear.

“Dean, this is not the time, nor the place,” Cas replied grumpily and stepped away from him. Alright, so he was still pissed at Dean.

Anyway, he didn’t need his husband’s permission to look at the collection of underwear. The variety of bright and pastel color combined with fine materials sent a thrill down his spine right into his pants. He could almost feel the satin stretching over his ass like a cloud straight from Heaven. How it must feel on his cock, soft to the touch whenever he moved like he wore nothing. Before he realized it, Dean had his fingers on a pair of panties, memorizing the feeling of it on his skin.

“Looking for a surprise for your wife?”

Dean quickly looked up and hoped he wasn’t blushing now that he had gotten caught. Mrs. Graham, presumably, had appeared next to him.

“Not today, sorry,” Cas said, joining them and flashing his FBI badge at her, “we’ve come to ask you some questions about Ashley Miller and Marina Ruiz.”

The woman’s smile faltered. “Oh, what a tragedy this is,” she said. “Such nice ladies and now this happens to them, dying only two days apart of each other.”

“They both worked for you, is that correct?” Cas asked.

“Yes. Yes, they did. Ashley was a beautiful young woman. I didn’t know her that well but one day when she came into my store, I asked her if she wanted to model for my spring/summer catalogue. I was glad she accepted the offer and the photos turned out really great but I don’t know if it’s appropriate to use them now after what happened to her. I might ask her boyfriend if she would have liked this.”

“Ashley had a boyfriend?” Dean asked.

“His name is Zach Lisowski. He works at the bar down the street.”

“Mrs. Graham, did you notice anything before or after either of the women died? Did you perhaps smell something like rotten eggs or notice any place that appeared unusually cold?” Cas interrogated.

“Or did Ashley or Marina mention seeing something weird or did they hear strange noises that sounded like rabid dogs maybe?” Dean added and he didn’t need to see it to know that Cas was currently rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Graham looked at them in confusion. “No, nothing like that,” she said. “Do you think someone did this to them? Is that why the FBI is here?”

“We know nothing for sure yet, ma’am,” Dean said. “However, we have order to investigate. Maybe their death’s happening so close timewise is a coincidence but we have to make sure in order not to risk any other lives.”

“I guess that’s the right thing to do. Do you think my life could be in danger too? I mean I knew both women and worked with them. Do you think I could be next?” The pace of Mrs. Graham’s breathing had increased. She was almost panting. The woman was older than Ashley and Marina, probably in her fifties, a heart attack would be more likely for someone her age, but they certainly didn’t need her ending up dead as well.

“There’s no need for you to panic, Mrs. Graham,” Cas said and gently touched her shoulder. “We’ll make sure to get behind all this soon enough. So far we can’t even say for certain that their deaths were caused by something else than really bad luck.”

“Oh, thank you, Agent,” she said, putting a hand on her chest as she tried to steady her breathing.

“We might come back to you in the next days if there’re more questions we need you to answer. In the meantime you can reach us under this number,” Cas said and handed her his card.

Cas was about to leave when another thing came to Dean’s mind. “Uh, Mrs. Graham, could we maybe get the pictures Marina took of Ashley? Perhaps we can find some clues in them.”

The store owner hesitated for a moment before replying, “Of course, Agent. If you could wait one moment I’ll bring you a USB drive.”

“Great, thank you,” Dean said and she left for a room in the back, her office he presumed.

“That’s low, Dean!” Cas hissed. “The girl is dead and still the only thing you can think of is seeing her half-naked.”

“Relax, Cas. We may really find something.”

Cas huffed, walking towards the door and said, “I’ll wait outside.”

“Here you are,” Mrs. Graham said when she returned and handed him the USB drive.

“Thanks. We’ll bring it back to you as soon as possible.”

“There’s no hurry. I’ve saved the images on my computer,” she said. “But you’re welcome to come here any time. I’m sure we’d find a nice present to bring back home to your wife,” the lingerie seller added while glancing down at Dean’s wedding ring. If only she knew...

“Should the case allow it, I certainly will,” he replied before saying goodbye and leaving the store.

 

Next they interrogated Zach Lisowski. The bar he worked at had just opened and only two guests were sipping their beers in silence, each having a table of their own.

“Mr. Lisowski?” Dean asked the bartender.

“Yeah?”

“FBI, we have a few questions concerning Ashley Miller.”

Zach sighed. “I can only tell you what I’ve told the police already. I haven’t talked to Ashley since we broke up.”

“So you’re not her boyfriend anymore?” Cas asked.

“No, haven’t been for a month now.”

“Who ended the relationship and why?”

“I did,” Zach said. “I found out she had been cheating on me with some old dude.”

“Do you know this ‘old dude’?” Cas asked.

“I don’t know his name. She didn’t tell me when she confessed the affair to me and I didn’t want to know. Ashley said she’d stopped seeing him and wanted me to forgive her for what she did but I didn’t want to hear any of her apologizes and told her I was done with her.”

“And this was a month ago?”

“Yes, and as I said we haven’t talked after the break up. The last time I saw her was two weeks ago at the supermarket but I left before she could see me and that was it. I don’t know anything about the circumstances of her death.”

“And Marina Ruiz, did you know her?” Cas continued.

“I know she’s a photographer. She worked at my brother’s wedding two years ago. Really nice pictures.”

“Did you know she took pictures of your ex-girlfriend for a lingerie catalogue?”

“I’ve heard that Ashley got a modelling job from Mrs. Graham. What can I say, she is…was really hot. I’m not surprised. But I didn’t know who was supposed to take these pictures.”

“And how well do you know Mrs. Graham?”

“She sells underwear. Her store is in the same street as this bar. Ashley dragged me in there once to show me what she wanted as a gift for Valentine’s Day. I suppose she was a regular customer there. I haven’t been in there since. Why would I? I’m not some kind of pervert or anything.”

Dean had to take a deep to remain calm. A man who, in private, liked to wear pretty underwear made of a fancy material with lace and maybe a small bow in the front was certainly not a freak. It made him feel good and sexy and his husband profited from this as well. Yes, Cas was very into Dean wearing women’s panties. Telling Cas his little secret had really improved their sex life (if that had even been possible back then when they had still been in their honeymoon phase) and not for one second had Cas judged him for his likes. He was perfect.

Well, they were going through some rough patch at the moment but Dean was confident they were going to work this out and Dean would be allowed back in his own bed again and then they would have the greatest make up sex of all time. With or without panties, Dean didn’t know this yet.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you for your time. Give us a call if something that might be useful comes to your mind,” he said and left his card on the bar.

“What next?” Cas asked when they walked towards the Impala. “Take a look at the women’s homes maybe?”

“Dinner first, I’d say. And we also need to find a place to stay. We can go to the victims’ places later at night.”

Cas nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything. Couldn’t he stop this already? All Dean had done was get them a case.

They ate their meals in silence at a diner across the street from a motel which looked cheap enough for their budget. When they afterwards told the clerk there they needed a room and he asked if they wanted one bed or two, Cas told him two.

“Can’t we even share a bed _now?_ ” Dean asked him when Cas unlocked the door to their room.

“Don’t you think it’d be strange for two FBI agents to share a bed while they’re on a case? Acting like a married couple could blow our cover.”

“We _are_ a married couple, Cas!” Dean argued, despite being aware of Cas having a point there. However, he was also very certain his husband only used their cover as an excuse to keep him at arm’s length.

“So, what do you think we could be after?” Cas asked instead of continuing their argument. “Personally, I still don’t think this is anything for us.” He walked over to the bed closest to the bathroom and dropped his duffel bag onto the mattress.

“Two women are dead and they not only knew each other, they worked together and they died in a way similar to the other. I don’t believe in coincidences, Cas.”

He had begun to really hope this was an actual case. Supernatural involvement might save his marriage at this point.

Dean loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, then took off his coat and proceeded to unbutton his dress shirt.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked from where he was sitting on his bed.

 _His_ bed! They were married for fuck’s sake. There should be a _their_ bed.

“I don’t need to wear a suit for breaking into houses. And it’s not even really dark outside. I’ll take a look at the pictures from Mrs. Graham before we can check out Marina and Ashley’s houses.”

Cas shot him a glare and turned on the TV in lieu of coming up with a reply.

Dean set up his laptop on their small table and put the flash drive in the USB port. There were quite a lot of images on it. They showed Ashley in different poses, her outfit changing every twenty pictures or so.

She was really hot, Zach had definitely not been lying on that one. And she had only recently passed away, so thinking of her that way was inappropriate.

Dean tried to focus on the details—not _those_ details—but he couldn’t find anything. Man, these were some really nice panties. He imagined how he would look in them, how Cas would look at him when he wore them. Fuck, he missed his husband. His husband who was right over there…glaring at him again.

“I hope you like what you see,” he said sarcastically.

“Well, not that I have much choice in what I get to see these days,” Dean retorted.

“The internet is full of pornography of people who are not possible murder victims in a case you are investigating, you know. Still, you prefer to drool over some dead girl.”

“I’m not drooling over anyone here. I’m looking for clues.”

“Yeah, do that, so I can go home and sleep in my own bed. This mattress is very uncomfortable,” Cas said as he squirmed on his bed.

“Sure,” Dean replied. “And I already miss sleeping on the couch. ‘Cause why sleep on memory foam when you can have that.”

Cas ended the conversation by bringing his attention back to the TV screen and Dean continued searching the pictures on his computer for helpful evidence.

It was hopeless.

 

Around 10 p.m. they drove to Marina Ruiz’ house. The photos hadn’t brought them any further to solving the mysterious deaths. Dean had found himself quite some inspiration but otherwise the images were useless. After making sure no-one was around to see them, Dean quickly picked the lock of Marina’s apartment and he and Cas sneaked inside.

“What are we looking for?” Cas asked in a low voice.

“The usual: sulfur, hexbags, ectoplasm,” Dean replied and switched on his EMF meter. “Also, occult books, a Ouija board…whatever tends to get people into trouble.”

Cas walked up to the bookcase in the living room and browsed the titles on the backs, then he pulled them out and looked if there was anything hidden behind. Dean circled the area where Marina had died, checking it for any signs of supernatural activity. “Nothing in here,” he said after a while, “I’ll check the other rooms.” He went into Marina’s bedroom and looked for sulfur on the window sill.

Still nothing.

Then he looked under the bed before turning his attention to the dresser and opening its top drawer. “Nice,” he said to himself as marveled Marina’s quality underwear, foregoing the plain cotton panties. The bras didn’t particularly interest him either—though, they probably looked good on her…some of them even were transparent…

Anyway, his eyes skimmed over the various panties, his right hand hovering above them until, eventually, he snatched a specifically pretty pair out of the drawer.

“Dean!” Cas’s voice travelled across the room through the half-dark and startled him. The only sources of light were their flashlights. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, nothing,” Dean mumbled, put the panties back where they belonged and closed the drawer. “Find anything?”

“I’m not sure it’s relevant,” he said and held a cardboard box out to him.

Dean took it and recognized the logo on the lid. “ _Satin & Lace,”_ he noted and opened the box. Inside, in a nest of wrapping tissue, was a red pair of lace panties.

“Do you think this could mean something?” Cas asked.

“It means that Marina had excellent taste,” Dean replied before thinking.

“Dean, could you please focus for one second,” Cas said, slightly irritated.

“I don’t know, Cas,” he said. “I guess we’d have to ask Mrs. Graham if she bought the panties herself or if someone gave them to her.

“They’re in the box, so I suppose they were a gift.”

“Maybe, but these don’t necessarily have anything to do with her death.”

They didn’t find anything else and decided to go to Ashley’s place. This was as inconspicuous as Marina’s but Dean decided to ‘borrow’ her laptop on which they hoped to find something. At least who ‘old dude’ was—whether he was connected to Ashley dying or not.

When they got back to the motel, Cas offered to examine the computer. “I’ve taken a nap on our way here. You should sleep, Dean,” he said, softly, giving Dean hope their reconciliation was within reach.

“You sure about that? I mean, computers have never been your strong suit—”

“Sam tutored me and I think I’ve gained excellent hacking skills. I’m also pretty confident I know more about computers now than you do,” he said, back in his annoyed tone. _Crap._

Dean gaped at him for a moment, nodded wordlessly and headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth.

 

Dean didn’t know how long Cas had been up when his alarm woke him in the morning but he made sure not to disturb him and let him rest some more before he entered the bathroom to take a shower. When he came out, clean and fully dressed, his husband was still dead to the world, so Dean went to the diner across the street to get them breakfast.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Dean said as he softly stroked Cas’s head, “time to wake up. I’ve got breakfast.”

Cas mumbled something into his pillow before sluggishly maneuvering out of bed.

“Here’s your coffee,” Dean said after Cas had taken a seat at the table and put the paper cup in front of him. “And I’ve got muffins. There’s cherry and blueberry—which one do you want?”

Cas sighed, satisfied, as he took the first sip from his coffee and chose the blueberry muffin. He knew Dean’s favorites were the ones with cherry and Dean considered Cas leaving this one to him as some kind of peace offering.

“How long were you up?” Dean asked while Cas was munching his breakfast.

“Late,” he replied. “Didn’t find anything, though.”

“The useful stuff is probably on her phone which is either still at the police station or with Ashley’s family if they’ve already returned it.”

As if on cue, Dean’s phone rang, the sheriff telling him to come to the morgue. “The autopsy’s finished. Come on, Cas, we gotta go.”

“But, I haven’t had a shower yet,” Cas said.

Dean leaned over for a quick sniff, telling him, “You’re good. Just wash up real quick and put on some cologne.”

Cas did as he was told and Dean helped him fix his tie while Cas combed wet fingers through his hair, trying to make it look orderly. “Dean, you’re in the way,” he complained and Dean ducked slightly so Cas could see the mirror.

“You look fine,” Dean reassured him, brushed imaginary dust from Cas’s shoulders and pecked him on the lips. “Get your coffee and go,” he said, left the bathroom and put on his overcoat. Cas did the same and grabbed his half full cup before locking the motel room door behind them.

 

“So, what can you tell us?” Dean asked the coroner after they had arrived.

“The cause of her death is cardiac arrest due to an anaphylactic shock,” the man explained.

“And what caused it?” Cas asked.

“That’s the question,” the coroner said. “Her medical record doesn’t mention any allergies and the contents of her stomach didn’t show anything suspicious. I also didn’t find any insect bites on her body.”

“Are you sure it was an anaphylactic shock?” Cas continued.

“Yes, the body shows textbook empty heart syndrome which is a typical sign for that kind of incident. I can’t tell you what caused it, though. Maybe she touched something and the police overlooked it, like, a latex glove for instance.”

“You mean she could’ve had a latex allergy? Did she have sex before she died and the guy just took off when he realized the condom didn’t become her?”

“I’ve checked that and no, she didn’t.”

“This also wouldn’t explain how the door could be locked from the inside,” Cas said.

“These are my results,” the coroner said, “I’m sorry but it’s your job now to find an explanation for this.”

“Well, anyway, thank you for your time,” Dean said and they left the morgue.

“Do you think now this is a job for us?” Dean asked when they walked into the parking lot.

“I’m not 100% convinced yet, but you were right there’s something off with these deaths,” Cas said. Dean counted his reply as a small win.

“I’d say we go back to Mrs. Graham and ask her who bought Marina’s roguish red panties,” he said as he opened the door on the driver’s side of the Impala and Cas didn’t protest.

When they entered _Satin & Lace,_ Mrs. Graham was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello?” Dean called into the seemingly empty store.

“You know, my offer still stands,” he said then in a lower voice. “All you gotta do is pick a pair.”

Cas groaned but Dean’s teasing smile didn’t falter. Deep inside he knew his husband wasn’t really mad anymore. Their dynamic in the morning had led him to be optimistic their stupid argument was going to be over soon.

“Hello, sorry, I was in the back,” said a man who had appeared from Mrs. Graham’s office. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“Uh, you work here?” Dean asked, slightly confused. He couldn’t really imagine women buying lingerie from this guy. Not that he didn’t look nice and he was also kinda handsome for his age…

“My wife owns the store,” the man said.

“So you’re Mr. Graham,” Cas noted.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m responsible for online distribution and I also help with the bookkeeping. My wife is running some errands but she’ll be back soon if you’d rather talk to her.”

“We’re FBI,” Cas said and briefly showed him his badge. “Maybe you can help us in the meantime.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Did you know Marina Ruiz and Ashley Miller, the women who recently passed away and were affiliated with your wife?” Cas asked.

“Yes, of course I did. This is a small town and they both worked for my wife. I mean, I didn’t know them well but I’ve talked to them once or twice when they came into the store.”

“Where you involved in the making of the online catalogue as well?”

“No, that was solely my wife’s thing. I’m only supposed to put the images on the website when Linda has picked the ones she wants to use.”

“Marina Ruiz had a gift box from here at her place with a pair of red lace panties,” Dean said. “Do you happen to know if she bought those herself or if someone gave them to her?”

“I can answer that question for you,” Mrs. Graham suddenly spoke behind them. Dean hadn’t noticed her enter the shop, but he noticed the look Linda gave her husband. It had something of a scolding glare which he knew too well from his husband. “I gave them to her as a thank you for the job she’d done on the catalogue so far,” she explained.

“So you say she didn’t have some secret lover who was into frisky lingerie?”

“If she did, he didn’t buy it here,” Mrs. Graham insisted.

“Did you provide Ashley with a similar gift?” Dean further interrogated.

“I told her she could keep the things she wore for the photo shoots after they were done. Sadly, this never happened. The poor girl died before they were finished.”

“Thank you for the information, Mr. and Mrs. Graham,” Cas said. “Have a good day.”

“Here,” Dean said, pulling Linda’s USB drive out of his breast pocket. “Thanks for this,” he told her, handing it back.

“You think the husband has something to do with this?” Dean asked when they were back inside the car.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Did you see how she looked at him?”

“Yes, like you’ve looked at me for the past few weeks,” Dean replied thoughtlessly.

Cas sighed. “Dean,” he started. He intently stared at his lap for a minute before resuming, “I don’t want to be mad at you all the time but you keep getting us into dangerous situations. I am human and I want to live as long as possible to spend my remaining time on earth with you.” He turned his head to face him. “I’ve already lost you too many times and you’ve lost me. We will lose each other again eventually but I want to put the inevitable off as long as long as possible.”

“Cas,” Dean said. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak. “I want the same.” He reached his hand across the bench and clutched Cas’s. “It’s just… I don’t know anything else. This, hunting, has always been my life.”

“Yes, Dean, I know. We’ve had this talk over and over again. Do you think it was easy for me to start over? I’ve been around longer than any other living creature on this planet, yet I willingly gave up everything I had, everything I had always believed in, for _you._ Being with you was the only thing I ever wanted and you keep on trying to ruin this for me by attempting to kill us with your stupid hunting.”

“ _My_ stupid hunting? I thought you’re a hunter, too? I thought you wanted to keep on saving people?” Dean’s voice appeared even louder in the small space of the car.

“Not at any price,” Cas said, still calm. “Sometimes I wonder if you even still want to be with me. Maybe you’re doing this to drive me away.”

Dean felt sick all of a sudden. How could Cas even think something like this?

“Cas, I love you, you know that,” he said, his grip on Cas’s hand tightening. “I’m not doing this on purpose. I just… This is who I am. I don’t think I can change but I swear I’ll try to slow down.”

Cas looked at him with weary eyes.

“And, so far, there’re no signs of danger,” Dean said.

“Dean,” his husband whined once more. “You of all people should know that trouble tends to hit when you least expect it.” He freed his hand from Dean’s and said, “I’d like to go back to the motel now. I really need a shower. We can think about how to proceed later.”

Dean wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to when he said the last bit, whether it was the case or their relationship. He sincerely hoped Cas was talking about the case.

God, he, Dean Winchester, really was the dumbest piece of shit on the planet. His hands tensed on the steering wheel as he drove them back to their motel.

 

While Cas was in the shower, Dean took off his FBI outfit, neatly putting it on a hanger. When he added the final layer, his overcoat, something that had obviously fallen out of one of the pockets caught his eye. He picked up the bright pink ball of cloth and realized it was a pair of satin panties. “Where the hell did this come from?” he wondered aloud.

He inspected the piece of lingerie and noticed it had to be his size. Did he unintentionally steal the panties from Mrs. Graham? Or, could it be… Had maybe Cas gotten them for him? But how, when? They had been together all the time and Cas wasn’t the type for stealing. He could have left a wad of cash somewhere for Mrs. Graham to find, sure, but Cas certainly wasn’t the kinda guy who was embarrassed to get women’s underwear that easily fit a guy and when they were together, people probably assumed it was for one of them and not his not quite skinny wife. Dean preferred to buy these things online. He wasn’t ashamed for what he liked but he would be lying if he said that he was above people’s judgement. Cas, on the other hand, was. If it were up to him, he would just take Dean by his hand, walk into a _Victoria’s Secret_ and ask a sales assistant for panties that his beloved husband would fit into. Even though Cas had been human for a few years already, he still didn’t understand the full spectrum of social conventions. Dean loved him for his inability to be scandalized by— objectively—small things like a guy wearing underwear that was intended for women.

What was he supposed to do now with these? The satin felt so good between his fingers and he was itching to experience this feeling somewhere else. He paused his thoughts for a second and listened to hear what Cas was up to.

The water was still running, so Dean should have enough time to try on the panties before Cas came back into the room.

He was already down to his boxer briefs after getting out of his formal attire, quickly stepped out of them as well and put on the pink panties.

He released a content breath as he took in the sensation of the fine material on his ass and groin. God, this was amazing.

Dean wished he had a mirror out here to admire his new look but could do nothing more than stare down on himself. He had to wiggle a bit at his crotch with a hand inside the panties to find the optimal fit but eventually everything down there was perfectly arranged and comfortable. He glanced over his shoulder to see the shape of his ass under the pink textile. The panties had a thin black lace trim and the obligatory bow in the front. He really liked this one.

Dean realized the water had been turned off and he heard rustling behind the bathroom door. He suddenly felt like he should cover himself with something… _something!_ There wouldn’t be enough time to get dressed before Cas was going to step out, so Dean grabbed the closest thing he could spot and this happened to be Cas’s overcoat which he had thrown onto his bed.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas asked, only a towel around his hips, as he walked over the threshold.

Dean’s hands were holding the coat closed over his barely dressed body. “Nothing,” he said, defying his husband’s intense stare.

“Why are you wearing my coat? Are you naked under there?”

“No.”

“Dean, you’re obviously not wearing pants.”

“I’m not completely naked,” Dean tried to explain.

“ _Dean!”_ Cas’s patience seemed to have come to an end.

“Fine,” Dean said and opened both sides of Cas’s coat like an exhibitionist flashing a passer-by.

Cas swallowed audibly. _Interesting._

Dean slowly exposed one shoulder, then the other, his arms sliding out of the coat one after another. He draped the coat over one of the chairs and moved closer towards Cas, still keeping some distance between them.

“You like that?” he teased, slipping a finger under the waistband of the panties, letting it snap back when he removed the finger again. Cas gasped.

Dean turned his back on him and let his hand glide down his satin-clad ass. “This is so good,” he breathed. “You wanna feel it too?”

Suddenly he heard footsteps coming up behind him and before he realized it, Cas had grabbed him by his shoulders, spun him around and forced his mouth onto his.

 _Finally,_ Dean thought as he let out a breath through his nose while Cas was claiming his lips and tongue, hands roaming over his back.

The knot that had kept Cas’s towel together had loosened and Dean was pleased to notice it drop on the floor.

“Bed,” Cas commanded and guided him to lie down on his back. Then he crawled on top of Dean and brought their lips back together, starting to kiss his way down along his neck, to his collarbone, his chest, stopping his descent to suck at a nipple, before continuing all the way down until he reached Dean’s panties.

He mouthed at Dean’s cock through the fabric, making him even harder than he’d been before. His hot breath damped the satin and Dean buried his hands into Cas’s hair, signaling him to properly touch him already.

His husband’s eyes met his and a wide grin spread on Cas’s face. “You’re gorgeous,” he said before ducking down again. He took the lace between his teeth and pulled at it, released it and let it snap back. The small pain and sound of it made Dean squirm beneath him.

“Cas,” he begged, “please!”

Again, he seized the waistband with his teeth, this time pulling it down and releasing Dean’s throbbing erection. The fine material was still covering his balls, though, and Dean was thankful for it not being removed completely.

Cas’s tongue quickly licked over the slit of his cock and then he swiftly swallowed him down as far as he could. Fuck, Dean had missed this so much. It had been so long since they’d done this. Since they’d done _anything._ Cas’s hands on him felt so good and warm—they felt like home. Those thoughts were abruptly torn away from him when Cas strongly sucked at his cock while moving upwards until letting go of it with a _pop._

“On your stomach,” Cas ordered, breathing heavily, eyes dark, and Dean obliged.

Cas sneaked a spit-slick finger under the panties that still concealed his ass and gently teased at Dean’s hole.

“Dean, where’s the lube?” he murmured into Dean’s ear, his voice so deep it rumbled through Dean’s entire body, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

“My toiletry kit. Bathroom,” he gasped and Cas groaned in response, lifting himself off the mattress and hurrying to get it.

He almost jumped on the bed when he returned with the bottle in his hand, straddled Dean’s legs and quickly squeezed some on his fingers. He still didn’t pull off the panties when he began to finger Dean who let out a pleased hum at the contact on his rim.

Cas peppered his back with kisses, his unoccupied hand smoothly moving up and down his side, as he opened him up. When he was done, he pulled down the panties only as far as necessary and Dean could feel the thick head of his erection poke at his entrance. He let out a long exhale as Cas pushed in, draping himself over Dean, his weight pressing him down into the mattress.

“I’m good. Move!” Dean spluttered and Cas did as he was told.

“ _Deaaaan,”_ Cas moaned. “I’m sorry,” he stumbled as he thrust into him, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… _ah_ … I missed you.”

“No, Cas,” Dean replied, his voice strangled from Cas’s weight pressing him into the mattress and the strain of his constant arousal. “ _I’m_ sorry. I was stupid and selfish.”

“Love you, love you,” Cas breathed and his hand found Dean’s on the sheets, their fingers intertwining.

It didn’t take much longer for Dean to come with Cas drilling into him with fervor and his erection being deliciously trapped under him and when he finished, soaking the bed sheet beneath him, his cry was suffocated by the pillow he had pressed against his face. Cas’s orgasm followed almost immediately and Dean felt his breath tickle his neck as he tried to steady its rhythm. His softening dick had already slipped out of Dean when he rolled off of him and Dean turned to his side as well so they could kiss again.

“You’re a genius,” he said, smiling.

“Well, these are some pretty nice panties,” Cas replied.

“I appreciate the surprise but you didn’t have to steal them or however you did it,” Dean told him.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

“I mean the panties. You got them from Mrs. Graham, right? They fell out of my pocket when you were in the shower.”

Cas stemmed himself onto his elbow, sitting up a bit. “I thought you got them?” he said.

“Huh?” Dean didn’t understand. “But how did they end up here?”

“I don’t know, Dean. Are you sure you didn’t just forget to put them back after inspecting them?”

“Of course I’m sure. I haven’t seen this particular pair before at _Satin & Lace.”_

Cas furrowed his brows, obviously trying to think of another explanation.

“Who cares, Cas,” Dean said eventually. “We’re good now, right? You won’t leave me, I mean, no divorce plans?”

Cas shook his head. “Dean, of course not,” he said, softly, and placed a hand on Dean’s cheek. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I married you.” Dean huffed a small laugh and Cas’s thumb circled a few freckles on his face.

“Does this mean I’m allowed back in our bed?” Dean asked.

Cas leaned in and kissed him. “Yes,” he murmured against Dean’s lips before closing the small distance again.

After a while, Dean broke the kiss to get out of the panties. They had only been around his thighs at this point anyway and feeling his husband without anything between them was way more comfortable.

Their lazy kissing was interrupted again after a few minutes when Dean got a slight scratch in his throat and coughed to get rid of it.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked.

“’m fine,” he replied but before he could seal their lips together once more he had to cough again. He cleared his throat a few times and carefully bumped a fist against his chest.

“I’m getting you a glass of water,” Cas declared, got out of bed and filled a plastic cup from the bathroom with some tap water. He watched Dean with intent as he drank, making sure he was emptying it.

“Thanks,” Dean croaked as he handed Cas the cup back.

“Dean, are you sure you’re alright? You sound like you’re getting a cold or something.”

“Not it’s—” Dean insisted, choking on the words. “It’s fine,” he said hoarsely, almost in a whisper.

Cas reached out a hand and put it on Dean’s forehead. “You’re not feverish,” he noted. “Maybe you should take some aspirin and nap a bit. I don’t want you to get sick.”

He moved out of bed and put on a fresh pair of underwear from his bag and a T-shirt.

“Here,” he said and handed Dean a set of his own clothes. The boxer briefs he managed himself but Cas had to help him into his shirt. He felt so annoyingly weak.

“Cas,” he pleaded. Even this single word was a struggle. Lying down made it worse—he wasn’t able to breathe all of a sudden. “Cas,” he choked out again, clasping at Cas’s arms, “help!”

“Dean, what is it?” Cas worried as he helped him sit up. “ _Dean?”_

Dean pulled himself up and tried to stand. Maybe this would help.

Nope. It didn’t.  

He arched his back, knees slightly bent, hands resting on his thighs. He desperately tried to suck in some air but nothing made it through to fill his lungs. It was like something was stuck in his trachea, sealing it.

He looked up to Cas who was starting to panic and gestured with his hands at his throat, signaling him he couldn’t breathe.

“Dean, oh god, what am I supposed to do, what do you want me to do? Call an ambulance? Dear god, Dean, please, don’t die!”

The whole world was spinning when Dean’s legs gave in and he collapsed onto the floor. Tears were falling from his eyes but the only thing he could think of was how Cas was helplessly begging him to stay with him. His pupils were gradually becoming unable to focus and dared to roll back inside the sockets but then…

_The panties!_

Dean brought up his last remaining strength to point a finger at the pink panties that were lying next to him on the floor.

He didn’t know what happened next but when he came to he was lying flat on his back, his chest hurt like someone had dropped a hippo on him and he felt the lingering touch of lips on his.

“Dean?” he heard Cas say, his voice sounding hollow as if being far, far away. “Dean?” he repeated, appearing closer this time.

Dean’s eyes snapped open. The room was too bright and everything was blurred.

“Thank god, Dean, you’re alive,” Cas said and pulled Dean into a hug. “I was so worried. I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m still here,” Dean said, still a bit hoarse.

“You weren’t breathing and then…the panties…I burned them. You still weren’t breathing. I had to reanimate you.” Cas was panting, the anxiety only slowly draining from his body.

“Thank you,” Dean said.

“I told you problems tend to arise when you’re completely unprepared,” Cas reminded him and couldn’t help but chuckle in relief.

“You were right. I’m sorry.”

“At least now we know what we’re dealing with,” Cas remarked.

“Cursed panties?”

“Exactly.”

“I have a feeling, you know, that Ashley’s ‘old dude’ is Mr. Graham,” Dean said as Cas helped him get off the floor.

“Do you think he killed her because she broke up with him?”

“Possible. Maybe she threatened to tell his wife about the affair and he thought the only way to prevent this was to kill her.”

“And Marina?”

“Perhaps he had a thing with her, too. I mean, he looks kinda good for his age.”

“But Mrs. Graham said she gave the panties to her.”

“Maybe she found out and only tried to protect him.”

“We should probably pay the Grahams a visit at home.”

“After closing time, yes,” Dean agreed.

“Okay. You rest some until then,” Cas ordered and Dean had no objections to that. Not after a pair of pink satin panties had almost killed him.

 

In the Impala they had waited for the Grahams to come home and, luckily, Mr. Graham was the first to return.

Bewilderment was obvious on his face when he opened the door after they’d knocked. Probably surprised to see the both of them still around, Dean reckoned.

“Agents?”

“Evening, Mr. Graham,” Dean said.

“My wife won’t be home for another twenty minutes or so,” he told them.

“Actually, we wanted to speak with you.”

“Okay… How can I help you?”

“We know that Ashley Miller had an affair with an older man and we have reason to believe you were the man,” Cas said.

Mr. Graham sighed and signaled them to come into the house.

“We had a relationship, yes,” he confessed after sitting down on the living room sofa, eyes fixed on his hands in his lap.

“Did she threaten to tell your wife?” Cas asked.

Mr. Graham looked up. “No. She said she couldn’t do this to her boyfriend whom she didn’t want to leave as I would’ve never left my wife for her. She knew from the start that our…liaison had an expiration date.”

“But you wanted to be on the safe side, so you killed her,” Dean said.

“No!” Mr. Graham insisted, waving a hand in dismissal. “I never would have hurt her.”

“And Marina Ruiz? You never meant her any harm either, am I right?”

“I didn’t kill them!” he claimed.

“Like you didn’t try to kill me, right,” Dean huffed.

“You…excuse me?”

“The panties you secretly stuffed into my pocket.”

Mr. Graham gaped at him. “No, she wouldn’t,” he mumbled, breathless.

“What was that?”

“I’m…you should leave. I don’t know what she’s capable of,” he said.

“She?” Cas asked. “You mean your wife?”

“Yes, me,” Mrs. Graham affirmed, suddenly standing in the living room with them. How did she always appear out of nowhere?

“So you killed them,” Cas remarked. “You almost killed my husband!”

“From the minute that creep walked into my store I knew he was after something for himself,” she said, spitting the words at Cas like venom.

“He’s not a creep!” Cas yelled but Dean grabbed his shoulder, indicating he didn’t need to scream at her to defend his honor.

“What kind of spell did you use that the curse only hit the person it was intended for?” Dean asked calmly.

“It’s surprising what you can find on the internet nowadays,” she stated simply. _Great._ When this was over they would have to find whoever ran this website and shut it down.

“Catch,” she said and threw a pair of black lace panties at Cas and that idiot was actually going to hold out his hands but Dean pulled him aside in time, the panties falling on the hardwood floor.

“That’s all you got?” Dean mocked and Mrs. Graham started to scream, infuriated. Then she headed out the front door and proceeded to run down the porch steps but Dean was already after her and caught her before she could even set a foot on the pathway that was leading up to the house.

“Cas!” he called. “Put on some gloves and look if she hasn’t got any more poisonous panties in her pockets.”

Linda Graham was resisting, wriggling wildly under Dean but the woman didn’t stand a chance against him.

After making sure she was unarmed, they called the sheriff to arrest her, telling her Mrs. Graham murdered Ashley and Marina. They had some difficulties explaining how she had done it without mentioning magic and lethal lingerie but luckily Mrs. Graham was rather proud of what she’d done and confessed the crimes. Also, Mr. Graham told Sheriff Daniels the whole story how his wife had found out about the affair with Ashley and decided to get rid of her. Linda had started her revenge plan by giving her the modelling job and put the deadly curse on a pair of panties she was going to wear throughout the photo sessions. Then she witnessed a flirt between her husband and Marina and chose to eliminate the potential rival as well.

Dean had eventually gotten in the cross hairs because Linda didn’t want the FBI sniffing around and discovering his weakness—panties—had only played into her hands.

“I hope our complication from earlier today doesn’t mean you won’t be wearing panties again,” Cas asked when they drove back to the motel later.

“I like how you call it a ‘complication,’” Dean said and let out a short laugh.

“We’ve had bigger problems than one of us being temporarily dead,” Cas deadpanned. “But in all seriousness, Dean, I was really afraid when you lay there and didn’t breathe. I hate feeling so helpless. In times like these I tend to wish my healing powers back.”

“You didn’t need any special powers to save me, Cas,” Dean said and briefly looked at his husband, smiling.

“We were lucky this time,” Cas told him. “We’ve been lucky many times but we shouldn’t tempt fate. I still only want us to go on hunts every once in a while.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Cas said after a few minutes of silence. “Will you still be wearing panties?”

Dean chuckled. “Of course, Cas, always. No evil witch can ruin this for me.” From the corner of his eyes he saw Cas smiling.

When they got back to their motel room, they crawled into Cas’s bed together, Dean falling asleep being the little spoon. Yes, this was exactly how it should be. He did no longer mind the squeaky noises the bed made in response to every minor movement with his husband at his back. Soon they were going to return to memory foam anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course they're fine in the end, duh. Dean and Cas love each other.  
> Please don't call me out on any medical inaccuracies—I tried to make it sound logical with the help of Wikipedia.  
> Comments and kudos are welcome :)


End file.
